


In Want of Family

by frosty600



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Artificial Insemination, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Verse, Omega Will, male period mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29597958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frosty600/pseuds/frosty600
Summary: Will had settled into his job as a teacher at Quantico.He was happy. There was just one thing missing that the omega found was missing from his life.Something he'd convinced himself he hadn't wanted as a younger man. But now found he wanted to fill the ache that had settled in his gut. An ache his beloved furry family couldn't entirely fill. No matter how much he had wanted to it when the ache had started to become a permanent fixture.He wanted a family. A child of his own that he could nurture. And for a single omega who'd set aside all thought and hope of finding an alpha that'd want him exactly as he was - there was only so many options available.He'd looked into them all. As few as there were and had finally settled on the option he preferred.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 118





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Hannibal.
> 
> Thanks to MaddieContrary for reading over this for me and providing feedback. I really appreciate it. <3 
> 
> I'll update tags as I go, but please feel free to let me know if you feel like there's something that should be tagged and I'll add it.

**CHAPTER 1**

Will sat slumped over, elbows resting on his knees as he nursed three fingers of whiskey. Lips pursed and twisted in a grimace. Unruly curls in greasy disarray atop his head. He needed to shower. He felt disgusting, but so far. He couldn’t muster the motivation to do more than wallow in his biological misery.

As a rule, heats were hard. Hard on the body. Days of aching need that refused to be satisfied by nothing other than alpha and knot. For Will they were harder. It was a week of nonstop need with no alpha to see to his needs. He could go to a heat clinic of course. But the mere thought of being vulnerable with a stranger – possibly strapped down helpless.

He’d heard horror stories. Had seen the horror first hand as a cop in New Orleans, back when he was fresh-faced 20-something. Desperate to grow his scruff so he didn’t look so young and delicate. Didn’t look so Omega. The scruff, gave him more of a beta vibe and along with the scent blockers and suppressants and his ability to mirror those around him. He’d managed to avoid being singled out.

Of course, then he’d gotten stabbed… and the truth had come out. An omega on the force. A travesty. Not against the law exactly, but highly frowned upon. An omega shouldn’t be exposed to such violence. It could lead to all kinds of complications. Hysterics and mental breakdowns the most thrown about reasons at the time. Along with other at the time medically backed alpha posturing and bull-shittery.

A lot had changed in the decade or so since then. Omega’s had better rights. Discrimination clauses had been put into effect. Allowing him to not have to hide his gender any longer. To openly apply for the FBI Academy.

He’d been denied the possibility of becoming an Agent. Strict screening protocols. His mind his greatest asset in his preferred job and his greatest weakness. Seeing too much didn’t make for great mental stability.

He’d jumped however when he’d been offered a teaching position instead. He’d needed the employment. And something more than his lures, fishing and the two dogs he’d had at the time to occupy him.

He’d settled into the role of teacher. Even found he enjoyed it on most days. Standing in front of a classroom of potential future agents and talking at them. And his students had swiftly learned that they’d get less curt responses if they emailed him their questions rather than trying to catch him in person after class.

Mandatory office hours and reading essays where the worst part of the job. And he found that far tolerable than any previous job he’d managed to hold down.

Will grimaced in pain and gulped down his three fingers of whiskey in one gulp. The liquid a smooth welcome burn down his throat. He set the glass down with a heavy thunk on the small coffee table. And leaned back against the couch. He pulled the heated pad more firmly over his gut and wrapped his arms around it. Pressing it close as his insides cramped.

He hated this. Worse than his heats and the week of never-ending need that the faked knotted dildos couldn’t ever fully satisfy no matter what promises the adverts and packaging promised. The couple of weeks after. When his body realised that no life had taken root inside of him _again._ And sort to expel the unnecessary preparations it’d made to nurture and nourish a new life.

It was this week that he always felt like a failure the strongest.

He knew it was the hormones. The instincts of an omega to breed and nurture a growing family. To make hearth and home.

_Family._

The ever-ill-fitting suit that he had never connected to. Or rather told himself that he couldn’t connect too. Anything to excuse himself from passing on his defective genes. To possibly pass on his defect to an innocent soul. His own child cursed to always see and feel to much from those around them.

But now… now he wanted. Wanted to know what it was like to hold his child in his arms, to raise them and watch them grow.

He had his dogs. His chosen furry family. He loved them. Doted on them. Trained them to be good boys and girls. But now? In these moments even their fluffy snouts and cuddles couldn’t sooth the powerful ache of failure inside of him as he sat in pain, dogs piled around him. Offering what comfort they could.

He wanted to feel the life of his child growing inside him. Wanted to raise a family. Even though it’d just be him. He'd manage. He'd always managed no matter what bullshit life threw at him. And it always felt like it was throwing shit at him. Seemed to get a sick kick out of it.

He was in a much better place now. He had forts. A stable job that didn’t leave him waking up with nightmares every night.

He hadn’t had a nightmare in years. Hadn’t woken up in a pool of his own sweat and terror for almost as long.

Things were going well. And he’d been saving. Making plans. He’d need to move the bed up into one of the upstairs bedrooms. Make the everything room more of an actual living room. Child proof his house… but that was getting ahead of himself.

He still had to hear back from the sperm-bank. Still had to get approval for artificial insemination. But he felt good. Hopeful almost. That he’d be approved. And he could truly begin his journey as a single omega parent.

Something that was no longer frowned upon by society in general. There was still a stigma, but as long as an omega proved that they could provide a stable home for a child with a steady income… they could get approved.

It didn’t happen often. Omegas tended to prefer having an alpha. The security and sense of safety that provided. Will however, had long given up on finding an alpha that could want him. The few times he’d tried… hadn't ended well.

He was always too strange. Not omega enough in manner. Refused the idea of giving up his job in order to stay home and keep house 24/7.

And now in his thirties. His fertile years were dwindling. Every year now it’d get harder and harder for him to conceive. And finding an alpha… one that wanted him. A family with him? No. He’d tried and failed.

And time wasn’t really in his favour to look for an alpha. To court and be courted. Not anymore. And as a younger man. He’d dismissed the idea. Hadn’t wanted it. Had railed against it when his dad had brought it up. He focused instead on proving to himself that he could do what he wanted. Be an officer of the law. Join the FBI as an agent.

Prove that an omega could do more than pad around soft and barefoot with children in tow. An unfair descriptor, but one that had been shoved at him growing up of the ideal omega. One alpha’s fell over their feet to claim.

Will sneered at the memory. One that defaulted into another pained grimace, lamenting his empty whiskey glass. He should have brought the bottle over.

The sperm-bank was his only viable chance of becoming a parent. And he was so close now. He just needed to get approved. He was excited and terrified in equal measure at the prospect… if only the agency would hurry up and get back to him.

Bureaucratic hoops be damned. Being stuck in limbo, not denied and not yet accepted… it was hard. Nothing he could do but wait and wait and wait. And hope that just this once. The world didn’t turn around and bite him in the ass.

That just this once it’d give him something nice for all the bullshit it’d thrown in his way. If he were the praying sort he’d be on his knees, palms clasped in prayer. As it was, he sent fervent pleas into the ether.

Hoping that if something was there. If something – anyone was listening. They’d take pity on him just this once and grant him happiness.

Of course. As was the way of Will’s life. The next day Jack Crawford walked uninvited into his classroom and upheaved his life with a single question.

“May I borrow your imagination?”

Never had he wished more that he hadn’t given in to the pressure of 9 _missing_ girls. That he hadn’t agreed to take a look. To give a profile to help. Because Jack Crawford was never satisfied with just ‘once’. Something he’d known. But had hoped that his ‘Just a profile’ would be enough to keep Jack from demanding more.

And demand he did much to Will’s displeasure. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Hannibal
> 
> Short chapter. there might be a few of these as the set up continues. But I'm sure they'll grow in length. It's very rare that my chapters are so bite sized. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

**CHAPTER 2**

Will stiffened as the third body in the room became more than another person trying to demand his attention, but a threat.

His gaze snapped to Jack. His upper lip wanting to curl up into an aggressive snarl, to bare his fangs as small and unimpressive as they were compared to the two alpha’s in the room, “Who’s profile is he working on?” he bit out instead. Working hard to keep his displeasure from imploding into violence.

The omega wanting nothing more than to beat the insufferable alpha’s teeth in. to force the smug overconfident look from Jack’s face as the alpha seated beside him attempted a platitude, one Will gave as little attention to as it deserved.

_Physiatrists_. The bane of his existence since his abnormalities became noticeable. His cocktail of neurodivergence’s something those in the business of studying the mind salivated over.

Will swallowed, stuffing the urge to act out down. He needed to remain calm. He couldn’t afford to appear unstable. He could deal with this like a reasonable adult with social skills even if he did what he could to avoid needing them.

He set down his cup of barely touched bitter sludge that dared to call itself coffee and fixed Jack with a look. Blue eyes reflecting the anger he felt at being ambushed and an ambush this was. One he didn’t want. One he should have seen coming. The alpha seated behind the desk wasn’t one that took others wants or needs into consideration when it came to his job and the lives of and justice for victims.

Will took another breath, “We’re done here,” he stated flatly and mentally congratulated himself for how calm he managed to sound, despite the fury boiling in the pit of his stomach as he stood.

“What?!” Jack barked.

“I agreed to give you a profile,” Will retorted, “I’ve done so,” shouldering his bag, thumbing the strap, “I’ll have an official copy to you by the end of the day.”

“Will, I need you on this.”

“ _No,_ ” Will snapped curtly, “You don’t. And I refuse to sit here and be psychoanalysed. I’m a teacher Jack. Not a field agent. And I prefer it that way. Now if you’ll both excuse me. I’ve got a class to teach – on psychoanalysing.”

He turned and stalked from the room, swinging the door out of the way and doing nothing to stop it from swinging back as abruptly as it pleased behind him as he stalked down the hall. Hand gripped white knuckled around the strap of his bag.

In the office Jack sighed out a somewhat irritated breath, jaw unclenching at being spoken to like that, “Perhaps you shouldn’t needle him like that Doctor.”

Hannibal turned his gaze from the glass door of Jack Crawford’s office to regard the agent coolly over the rim of his untouched coffee. The mere offensive scent of the sludge offered to him enough to deter him from taking even a single sip of the brew, “I was unaware that Will didn’t agree to our meeting.”

Jack grimaced, “I thought it best to ease him into it,” otherwise the infuriating obstinate omega wouldn’t have agreed to join them left unsaid – but heard none the less, “Will is less than fond of psychiatrists.”

Hannibal’s eyes creased, “Clearly.”

“But I promised a friend that I’d have his back out there. Which means I need to be sure he can handle it. Which is where I’m hoping you can come in doctor.”

Hannibal leaned forward, setting his untouched disposable cup beside Will’s abandoned one, “I would of course be happy to help good Will with this case. That is of course. If he danes to lend his expertise further to this case.”

Jack’s jaw ticked at the mere thought of having another argument with the omega of his continued involvement in the case. He had 9 missing girls and no time to waste on Will’s continued dramatics.

“I will of course be happy to set up a time with Will should he wish to speak to me for any reason now or in the future.”

“Thank you doctor,” Jack stood as Hannibal did, taking the other alpha’s hand, “I’ll see to it that he gets in touch with you,” he assured, before adding firmly. Eyes meeting Hannibal’s in an effort to convey just how serious he was, “I need him on my team. Innocent lives need him. I’m sure you understand.”

Hannibal’s eyes creased with a smile that didn’t reach their depths as he regarded the other man, easily hidden amusement coiling inside him pleasantly at the blatant attempt at manipulation. Hardly subtle, but Jack Crawford he was coming to understand wasn’t a subtle man. A trait he could appreciate in certain circumstances, “Of course,” he agreed easily, “I look forward to hearing from Will.”

Back in the relative safety of his classroom. Will settled into the role of teaching. Talking at the potential agents. His temper cooling as he spoke on the slides being projected up onto the screen behind him. The only sound coming from his students was the sound of pens scratching against paper.

He was good at this. This was good for him. In this room he was helping without harming himself in the process. The images projected behind him. The cases he researched for his syllabus not touching him as deeply as a fresh crime scene. The pictures allowing him a distance that fresh bodies at a crime scene still thick with pheromones and rife with emotions not just of criminal but the victim and the looky-loos and agents and badges.

He needed the distance to keep himself sane and as stable as his overabundance of mirror neurons would allow him. His becoming a single omegan parent counted on it. 


End file.
